


Laughter and Cooties

by Lolanae



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Combeferre is sanity, Enjolras panicking, Flu, Gen, Joly is adorable, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolanae/pseuds/Lolanae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire has the flu.  Enjolras doesn't know how to handle this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laughter and Cooties

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Karkraby on tumblr. =)

Grantaire sneezes.

Enjolras looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” Grantaire looks back down at the book he is reading.

“You’ve been sneezing all day.” Enjolras peers over the top of his laptop as the two are sitting facing each other on the couch.

“Thank you for the reminder. I had no idea I haven’t stopped sneezing,” as he sneezes again.

Enjolras sets his laptop on the coffee table and places his hand to Grantaire’s forehead. “You’re burning up!”

“Shit.” Grantaire grumbles; not because he is sick, but due to the fact, Enjolras worries – a lot.

“I’m calling Joly.”

“Fuck,” Grantaire bemoans. “I will be fine, Enjolras. I have a cold. Maybe the flu.”

“I’m still calling Joly.” Enjolras goes to the bedroom to get his cell.

As soon as he is out of his sight, Grantaire texts Combeferre.

**R:** _FERRE SAVE ME!_

**Combeferre:** _Huh? What did Enjolras do now?_

**R:** _I’m sick. He is stressing and on the phone with Joly._

**R:** _Please save me. Please come be the logical one._

**R:** _I’ll do anything._

**Combeferre:** _Breathe, and I’m on my way._

**Combeferre:** _Try to not kill either of them before I get there._

**R:** _Thank you, Ferre._

Grantaire sneezes again. This time, however, a cough follows it.

“Joly is on his way over,” Enjolras proclaims, as he returns to the living room.

“Someone kill me and put me out of my misery.” Grantaire lays his head back and closes his eyes until Combeferre can get there to back him up – or at least be a second opinion.

______________________

Combeferre must have intercepted Joly on the way out of their apartment building, because they arrive at the same time. Grantaire possibly says a small prayer of thanks that the two medical students live in the same building. Enjolras is pacing, and Combeferre is trying to calm him down or occupy him with something. Grantaire makes note to buy Combeferre a new book on moths or maybe draw him a nice picture of his favorite one – something as a thank you.

Joly’s cheerful face is the next thing Grantaire sees, “Hey there. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sick, and you are too cheerful.” Grantaire grumbles.

“Let’s take your temp first, and then you can grumble at me?” Joly suggests.

“Fine,” Grantaire says as Joly sticks the thermometer under his tongue.

“How is he, Joly?” Enjolras asks, having broken away from Combeferre’s distraction tactics.

The thermometer beeps. “102 temp. You’re sick, R.”

“No shit, Joly.” Grantaire’s tact left the room four fours of sneezes ago. He coughs again, which makes Enjolras look even more panicked.

Combeferre grabs hold of Enjolras’ arm, and then looks at Grantaire, “Besides the cough and sneezing, anything else?”

“Don’t feel like eating. Sore throat. Body aches.” Grantaire answers.

“I’m guessing it’s just the flu. Joly, can you run to the pharmacy and pick him up some medicine?” Combeferre orders. “We’ll try doctoring it here, keep an eye on him, and then decide if we need to drag him to the doctor. Sound good?”

Joly and Grantaire agree, but Enjolras grumbles.

“Oh hell, Enjolras. They are medical students. You called Joly, and I texted ‘Ferre. If they say we can doctor this from home. I’m game to believe them!” Grantaire gets up from the couch and starts walking towards the bedroom.

One problem in Grantaire’s plan – well more than one – he hasn’t eaten in over twenty four hours, he has a fever, he is sick, he got up too quickly and he is tired. Cold sweat beads up on his skin before he can get to the hallway. A sinking feeling settles into Grantaire’s stomach as if he is about to puke. Grantaire swears Enjolras and Combeferre are talking, but it sounds like he is in a tunnel. His head feels like it’s pounding, but it’s not hurting. His ears feel like they are on fire and tingle. He thinks he says he doesn’t feel well, but that’s all he remembers before things go black.

___________________

Grantaire wakes up in bed, with Joly sitting next to him. “Welcome back.”

“Why does my lip hurt?” Grantaire asks.

“You passed out and face planted on your hardwood floor.” 

“And how bad did Enjolras freak out?” 

“Be glad you texted Combeferre, we’ll leave it at that.” Joly puts on a pair of rubber gloves. “I’m going to check your eyes now that you are awake, okies?”

Grantaire nods and follows Joly’s instructions when it comes to the small flashlight and following fingers around. “Is my head normal?”

“Well, that is a debatable subject on some levels,” Joly laughs and smiles, “But yeah, it doesn’t look like the fall caused anything more than a headache and busted lip.”

“Thanks, Joly. Sorry I texted Combeferre for back up.” Grantaire apologizes.

“Don’t be. I know I can be a little much to handle sometimes,” Joly pulls a sticker looking thing out of the bag he brought, “Plus, ‘Ferre can get through to Enjolras a lot better than I can.” Joly sticks the thing in his hand on Grantaire’s forehead.

“Oh wow, what is that?” Grantaire loves the cool feeling on his aching head. 

“Just something to help between the fever and headache.” Joly pulls out a bottle of Tylenol, “You feel up to try to eat some so you can at least stomach some of these?”

“If I can eat here and not have to move?” Grantaire really is nice and comfortable on the bed.

“Fine by me.” Joly gets up to head into the kitchen, “Are you okay enough for me to let Enjolras in here?”

Grantaire nods. “Yeah, before he drives himself insane.”

It is barely a minute before Enjolras is next to Grantaire on the bed. “You scared me!”

“I am guessing my blood sugar bottomed out. I’m fine. Joly checked me out.” Grantaire attempts to reassure his fretting love.

“Combeferre is cooking some food. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Stop stressing? Please?” Grantaire practically begs.

“I’ll try. I’ve just never seen you this sick.” Enjolras squeezes Grantaire’s hand. “When you passed out, that was just – something I never, ever, ever want to see again. It scared me to see you like that.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. Sometimes I forget to eat when I’m sick,” Grantaire really is sorry. “This is just the flu or something.” Grantaire smiles, “If you aren’t careful, you’ll end up catching this, though.”

“I never get sick.”

“Never say never,” Grantaire laughs. 

Combeferre comes in a few moments later with some scrambled eggs and toast, as well as some water and juice. “I wanted to keep it light, but give your body something to work with. Just take it slow.”

Grantaire’s stomach declares just how hungry it is as soon as the smell of the food hits him. He manages to eat about half of the food. (And it stays down, thankfully.) Grantaire takes the medicine that Joly and Combeferre hand him. (That stays down, as well.) The rest of the day entails Grantaire sleeping for the most part, while Enjolras attempts not worrying. Combeferre stays the night to keep an eye on Grantaire. (Though, Grantaire thinks it’s more for Enjolras’ sanity.)

______________________

Two days later finds Grantaire pretty well on the mend. The occasional cough breaks through, but it’s nothing a cup of hot tea doesn’t cure. He is in the kitchen heating up some water for a fresh cup, when Enjolras stumbles in. “Morning sunshine,” Grantaire says.

“When did you start drinking tea instead of coffee?” He grumbles in reply.

“Since my throat is still recovering from the coughing.” Grantaire answers and then asks, “You want some?”

“No.”

Enjolras looks like he hasn’t slept a wink. Grantaire slept on the couch last night because he was still coughing some. “Enjolras, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

“Okay. Just checking.” Grantaire goes back to bobbing his tea bag up and down in the hot water.

Enjolras sneezes.

Enjolras sneezes, again.

Enjolras sneezes, one more time.

“Don’t say it,” he turns to Grantaire, who is now smirking.

Enjolras coughs.

“I told you so.” Grantaire can’t resist as he ushers Enjolras back to bed. 

“You gave me cooties.”

“You love me!” Grantaire smirks, unable to bite back his laughter. 

“I don’t love your cooties.” Enjolras mumbles as he crawls back in bed.

Grantaire laughs and goes to fix Enjolras some breakfast, with a side of the medicine he has left over that Combeferre and Joly gave him.


End file.
